


My Disaster

by girlunafraid23



Series: Our Theme Song [6]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Emotional Hurt, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 09:08:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlunafraid23/pseuds/girlunafraid23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Usually, Ian was home within two minutes after his shift. The bar was only a block away so it didn't take long to walk back." </p>
<p>Two guys jump Ian and fuck up his recovering knee again, Mickey goes back to fuck them up in return. (Future Fic)</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Disaster

**Author's Note:**

> Ever After by Marianas Trench

Mickey had an early day, so when he got home he knew Ian would still be on his shift at the bar. He was happy with the thought of being able to kick back, drink beer and watch TV until Ian got back. It was only five o'clock when he plopped down on to the couch and Ian's shift ended at six thirty. He had plenty of time to relax before making something to eat for dinner.

Usually, Ian was home within two minutes after his shift. The bar was only a block away so it didn't take long to walk back. Mickey had stuck a plate in the over to stay warm for him but decided against waiting for him before eating. 

When he glanced back at the clock it was already past seven. Mickey was trying not to worry, since Ian was a grown ass man, he could take care of himself, he was sure. But still, he never came home that much later and it was the middle of January and it was already pitch black out. Mickey felt like an idiot, pacing across the kitchen floor, waiting for him to show up.

It wasn't until twenty minutes later when the door finally opened and Ian slipped through, cursing loudly as he fell against the door when it slammed shut. Mickey watched him breathing heavily as he slid down the floor, his hand massaging his bad knee.

"You okay, Gallagher," Mickey asked, his eyes curiously watching him from the hallway. Ian didn't say anything at first, instead he hissed when he tried to bend his knee. It had been a few years since it had acted up, so Mickey was unsure why it suddenly was hurting after it seemed fine this morning.

Ian looked up to meet Mickey's eyes and he saw that Ian was already getting a black eye and his lip had been split. Mickey could feel his eyes narrowing at the sight, "What the fuck happened?"

He watched Ian flinch at his voice, but he didn't soften at all. He watched as Ian's hand ghosted over his knee, his face scrunched up in obvious pain. Ian could take a punch, hell, he could take a lot of punches, but it was different if you fucked with his knee. Mickey had watched him in physical therapy during his recovery and he was wearing the same painful expression now that he did then.

"Two guys I threw out today jumped me after work. They were drunk and it was barely six o'clock. Guess they didn't like being told what to do," Ian said, bitterly. He clenched his teeth, as he tried to sit up but after a second, fell back down to the ground with a groan. 

Mickey walked over to him, reaching his hand down, that Ian took graciously. Ian was usually against letting him help but this time he seemed to grateful to care. Mickey steadied him when he got to his feet, putting all his weight on his other leg, while he practically carried Ian to the couch. 

Ian collapsed on to the couch with a relieved sigh, his fingers sliding across his knee, while Mickey sat down on the coffee table in front of him. He watched Ian intensely, his eyes flipping back from his face to his knee. "Who was it," Mickey asked, his voice quiet but still full of rage.

"Don't worry about it, Mick. I'll be fine, okay," Ian said, his eyes squeezing shut tightly as he bit down on his lip. Mickey had seen Ian try to mask his pain before and when it was bad, it was almost impossible to hide it. Besides, he knew Ian too well to really hide it from him. 

He didn't like Ian's answer at all, "No it's not okay, Gallagher. Tell me who they are, before I go down to the bar and fucking beat it out of someone."

At first, Ian didn't say anything. He was so quiet, Mickey wondered if he had fallen asleep. Finally though, he sighed and rolled his head over to look at Mickey, "You better not get arrested or I'm going to be pissed." Mickey nodded in response, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "The two regulars, Derek and Anthony. Anthony is the one you punched in the face when he called you a fag one of the nights you came in while I was working. Derek is the guy he was with."

Mickey's lip curled in response, remembering exactly who they were. Ian watched him with wide eyes, curious and slightly worried at what Mickey would say to him. But instead, Mickey leaned down and pressed his lips against his before standing, "I'll be back soon. Don't worry, I won't get arrested." Before Ian could even respond, Mickey was out the door and sliding his arms into his jacket.

If Ian had thrown them out of the bar, Mickey figured they had walked one block over to the next closest bar. He opened the door, the bell sounding his entrance, while his eyes scanned the room quickly. He saw the two men, they were watching a group of people playing pool while they drunkenly ran their mouths about nothing. They reminded Mickey of Frank in that way, which just made his blood boil more.

The two were babbling so much that they didn't even realize Mickey was there until he clapped his hands down on their shoulders, "Hi boys."

It was just like back in Chicago, Mickey could feel the fear running through their bodies the minute he spoke and that was just how he liked it. They both stopped talking and they froze in place. Mickey leaned closer to them, "So we can either do this here or outside, but either way, you're going to get fucked up. You can take you pick though."  
"Is there an option of, of not getting fucked up," One of them, Derek he thought, slurred at him. 

Mickey sneered, tightening his grip on his shoulder so harshly that he felt him flinch from underneath his hand, "Take a fucking guess." With that said, he was pushing the two of them out the back door, throwing them against the alley wall. 

The other one, Anthony, had turned to say something to Mickey but before the words could leave his mouth, Mickey had thrown the first punch. He fell against the wall with a yelp and blood was pouring out of his nose already. 

Derek looked at him with eyes already full of terror but Mickey wasn't feeling merciful. He punched him hard in the stomach, watching him double over, coughing in response. He continued to beat the two of them until they were both bleeding significantly and would have more bruises than they would know what to do with. It wasn't until his own knuckles were bleeding and bruised did he fell fully satisfied.

He pulled Anthony up by the collar, leaning in close to him while he whimpered in fear, "If you ever touch Ian again, I will fucking slaughter you. Do you understand me?"  
Both of them started nodding instantly, "Yes, yes, yes, please don't kill us." Mickey sneered, dropping his collar while his head smacked against the pavement. The two men squirmed on the ground, practically crying as they held their broken noses. Mickey stepped over them, lighting a cigarette and walking down the sidewalk back towards their apartment.

When he reached the door to their loft, Mickey hesitated outside. He hated seeing Ian in pain and, in reality, he knew that no matter how many bones he broke, it wouldn't make Ian feel any better. He scowled at the thought of those asshole being able to catch him by surprise, because Mickey knew that if he had saw it coming, Ian would have been able to fight them off.

Ian was still laying across the couch with all the lights off, his eyes shut while the TV played in the background. Mickey hung up his coat, his gaze never leaving Ian's face. After he kicked off his shoes, he walked over to him, sitting down on the coffee-table again. His hand reached over and brushed some of Ian's hair out of his face. 

At his touch, Ian's eyes opened and he looked over at him expectantly. Mickey attempted to smile at him, but he could tell it barely passed. "I'm fine, Mick. You happy now," He asked, but his voice wasn't bitter, just curious.

"Not really," Mickey answered, his voice so quiet he wondered how Ian had heard him at all. Ian watched him closely, looking over his face like he was searching for bruises or cuts. And maybe he was, but Mickey was staring at his own bruised face.

He sighed after a moment of silence between them, "Are you sure you're fine? I, just, I don't what else to do. Fuck, you know I couldn't have let them go after this, right? You knew what was going to happen."

Ian nodded at him slowly, his eyes never once leaving Mickey's face. "I know," he whispered. Ian reached out to cup Mickey's cheek, while he leaned into the touch instantly. He didn't want Ian to be mad at him, but this was how Mickey dealt with certain situations. If someone hurt one of the few people Mickey truly cared about, Mickey's first instinct was to break bones, to physically take revenge. He figured Ian had realized that by now. 

"I don't want to sleep on the couch," Ian said after a while. Mickey nodded, before helping him lean up. He stayed patient with him as he slowly got to his feet, putting his weight on his good leg while his arm was slung across Mickey's shoulder. He steadied Ian and helped him walk to the bedroom; he had gotten good at staying patient during these situations after physical therapy. 

Mickey helped Ian down on to the bed, while he tugged off his jeans for him so he wouldn't have to bend his knee. After he had went and grabbed a drink from the fridge, Mickey fumbled in the drawer for some pain killers that Ian was prescribed to. Ian had already tossed his shirt somewhere and managed to get under the blankets, leaning up against the headboard.

He handed Ian the pills and the drink, while he drank it down quickly, handing the glass back to Mickey. Mickey quickly pulled off his own pants and shirt, before pulling up the blankets and sliding in next to Ian. 

Ian was on his side watching him as Mickey settled on to the mattress. He turned towards Ian's wide, green eyes that Mickey never got sick of looking at. Mickey reached over to run his fingers through his red hair, the soft, short strands sticking up at his touch. Ian's eyes fluttered shut as he swept his fingers behind his ear and down his neck, cupping it gently. 

When Mickey's lips were grazing Ian's, he mumbled out, "You'll be okay?" Ian nodded slightly, touching their lips together as he sighed into Mickey's mouth. Mickey's tongue licked his lips while Ian welcomed it into his mouth. They moved together perfectly, while Ian's hand gripped Mickey's side gently.

"I love you, Mick," Ian said, when they pulled away. Mickey pulled back to look at him, he looked fearful and he wondered if Ian thought Mickey would leave if his knee started to hurt again.

So Mickey nodded, pressing his lips against his again, the heat of his mouth acting as a promise, "I love you, too, Ian."


End file.
